Sunday, September 18, 2011

Child of Thunder (Chapter Eight)

Contrary to previous statements, I've decided to start posting chapters of Child of Thunder... so you'll be able to read it for free, all the way through, right here. Now, these are all largely unedited drafts, so they're going to be a little rough around the edges. Once I finish the story, I'll go back through and give everything a little (or a lot of) polish to get it ready for publishing.

Still waiting for the second draft proof copy of That Hideous Slumber. Longest weekend ever, possibly.

Chapter Eight: The Pale Hand of Death

In the wake of Xyd’s downfall the other vultures scattered, crowing fearfully. All became a wild confusion of feathers and dirt flying everywhere in the dimly lit nest. I could only stare at the dead bird, watching as it bled silently. The corpse seemed to be expanding, blowing up like a balloon. Gryndor appeared out of the chaos and grabbed me firmly by the arm. “Time to go!” he exclaimed.

“What… what’s happening to him?” I asked. I couldn’t help feeling a little in shock. One second ago I’d been resisting temptation to evil, now I was fleeing from something I could not understand. I stumbled a bit as I was pulled along, so intently was I staring.

“No time to explain!” Gryndor replied, huffing for breath. “We have to get out of here.” He pulled a long strip off the hem of his gray robe. He ran it back and forth between his hands for a moment, till it began to take on a life of its own, writhing like a snake. He let it go and it began to fly through the air in circles around us as Gryndor rushed us towards a wall.

And then quite suddenly we were on the ground, grass beneath our feet. We’d teleported. This I understood, this my brain could handle as I’d done it before.

What I couldn’t understand was that it was night. A bright pair of moons shone down from on high, one red, one blue. These I could understand, as I’d seen them before. But why was it night? How long had I been up there? Xyd’s magic must have altered my perception of time somehow.

But the next thing I noticed was much more difficult to handle.

Why was everyone dying?

I could hear the sounds all around me, swords clashing, blood being spilt. Black figures like shadows given life seemed to be killing everything they came across, prisoner and guard alike. Gryndor stumbled and hit his knee. “It’s happening already… I don’t believe it. And here I am having used up too much energy.”

“What?” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It was panicked, confused, and a little angry. “What is going on?”

“The Anurae are attacking…” Gryndor began. Above us, the nest exploded in a supernova of flame that lit up the night. Burning splinters of wood rained down on us, a couple of them singeing my skin. The ruined tower wasn’t the only building that had been set ablaze. The night was colored in fiery orange, the nearby forest beginning to glow as it caught fire.

Why was everything burning?

My mind was threatening to shut down, so sudden and terrifying was this change. I looked to Gryndor, hoping for some direction. He was just beginning to rise. We seemed to be in a calm spot, the eye of a hurricane that was destroying everything around us. A little brown rabbit crawled from the shadows into the circle of light created by the ravaged vulture’s nest. His hind legs were soaked with blood, his face piteous with fright. Before I could come to its aid, a slender blade plunged into his chest, stabbing the last bit of life out of the poor thing.

In the wildest of my imaginings, I thought a demon might emerge from the darkness. At the very least, surely it would be a bear or a panther, or some other mighty predator. The last thing I expected was a frog.

The frog who approached us wore simple black robes that were open at the chest. His skin was painted black, except where splotches had variously either come off or been splattered with blood. The frog’s eyes bulged almost comically, spread to either side of his face. With his giant lips and awkward gait, the creature could have looked ridiculous, were it not for the crimson droplets on that sword and the fierce expression in those wide-set eyes.

I heard a challenging roar from my right, and a bear lumbered forward with mace held high. It was the very same bear I’d nearly barreled into yesterday. His dark fur blended in with the night nearly as well as the frog’s black body paint.

Caught between two terrible enemies, I was readying myself for a brutal fight when a long red rope shot from the frog. It passed right over where Gryndor lay crouched and flicked against the black bear’s skin. When blood splashed to the ground and spattered my chest, I realized there was a knife attached to that rope. When it was whipped back towards the frog, and I felt the wet droplets of saliva, I realized it was the creature’s tongue.

The frog let the dagger sway at chin level for a moment, then opened its mouth and let the knife slide back into hiding. The bear lay on the ground, stone dead from the terrible neck wound he’d received. The swordsman frog studied me for a moment, then opened his mouth to yell.

“I’ve found the mark!” it screamed, its voice was a high pitched croak. Gryndor swore under his breath and stood. I stepped close to his side. “I’ve found the…” the frog began to yell again but it was cut off as Daale cut the beast down from behind. The bear had a wild look in his eyes, exhausted but determined.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Daale said breathlessly. “This place is going to hell pretty quick.”

“Really?” Gryndor replied calmly. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“We have to find Needha! I’m not leaving without her!” I interjected, jumping into the conversation.

“I’m sorry lad,” Daale told me. “I haven’t seen her.” He was leaning on his blade now, the weariness plain to see in his face and body language. What sort of day had I missed?

“Escape needs to be our priority.” Gryndor said firmly. The sounds of carnage echoed around us, seeming to ratify his point.

“NEEDHA!” I roared, letting my voice bellow as loud and deep as I could manage.

Gryndor reached for my hand, ready to pull me along, but I resisted. “We have to find her! And the other prisoners? What about Hayfinch?”

“He’s got a point.” Daale said. The bear glanced around, seemingly taking stock of our surroundings.

“It’s too dangerous!” Gryndor answered. “We have to GO.

Daale let his blade drop to the earth and stood close to Gryndor, their faces inches apart. He poked the deer in the chest. “If it was you… would you want to be left to die, or would you want to be rescued?”

Gryndor turned to walk away then. He seemed to be headed to the northern edge of the valley, where the chaos seemed greatest, the fires tallest. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“I suppose I’d want to be rescued,” he replied impatiently. “Now let’s get on with this. I really do not like this place.”

---

Six.

In the end we saved six, Needha among them. In was a small victory, infinitesimal against the backdrop of all the suffering we’d befallen, but it was just that all the same.

A victory.

Even the emperor himself couldn’t take that away from us. We stood in a pass north of the valley that led deeper into the mountains. It was our way out, perhaps the only way out, since we knew the road by which we’d entered was well guarded. Every one of the animals around me was fire blackened, their fur matted with soot. I knew I could not look much different. I could see patches of darkness on my bare skin as well.

We’d gathered here to wait for Gryndor. Daale had wanted to do a final sweep of the area for survivors, but Gryndor had insisted. It was only prudent, after all, since the deer was far stealthier and more agile than the mighty bear.

I stood at Needha’s side, a hand buried in her thick brown fur, feeling a little afraid she’d vanish on me. The bison had not been treated well, but fortunately had not been stuck here long. The other five we’d rescued, however, had not had the same luck.

Hayfinch we’d found under a cart, one of his ears lopped off. The old soldier had gotten hold of a sword, and managed to kill a few of the frogs before a number of wounds had forced him into hiding to bandage himself.

The rest were an elderly llama, a little deer girl, a rat-like creature with an eyepatch over one eye, and a one armed panther. These four had been holed up in a barn that had caught fire. We’d had to fight off several Anurae closing in on them.

Our new army.

The frogs, I’d learned, were the hirelings of Daale’s father. They were here for Daale, Gryndor, and I. Once the Anurae were hired, they killed everything they came into contact with until they found their mark, or marks, and eliminated them. The emperor had willingly unleashed them upon his own people, caring little for the consequences.

Less still was the care he bestowed on his son, a supposed heir to his very throne.

As we waited, we watched the valley burn. There was a slope before us that ran down from the edge of the pass where we stood. It was a bit vulnerable, rising from the floor of the valley up into the hidden folds of the rock where we were. It was this slope Gryndor would race up any moment now, with or without more victims of the labor camp, and the Emperor’s cruelty.

“How did you escape?” I asked Daale as we waited. I was curious as to how he and Gryndor had been able to get free. Gryndor had been able to sneak into Xyd’s lair and dispatch him long before the chaos that had overcome the labor camp should have allowed.

“We bribed the guard. I knew him from long ago, knew his family could use a little extra money. He in turn trusted me not to cause too much trouble. Trouble, as you noticed, found us instead. We were working on your rescue when the frogs arrived. I had no idea he planned on killing that vulture. Didn’t even know it was possible.” As I recall Daale’s tone was incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe some of the words coming out of his own mouth.

I had a hard time believing them myself, admittedly.

But that was all I had to hold onto just then. Words. My direction in this new life I led depended entirely on whose words I trusted and whose I rejected. So far, I’d chosen Daale, Needha, and Gryndor. Their words I trusted.

It wasn’t long before Gryndor came walking up that path. Lit up against burning vegetation and shadowy in the dead of night, I couldn’t help seeing a bit of a demon in the horned creature. The tinsel was still in his antlers. The gold caught a spark of light as he walked, making them glow a little. As he grew closer, I shook my head, and the comparison fled. This was no demon, only my friend.

In evading the flames the frogs had brought with them, he’d been forced to shed his gray robes. I saw he was clad now in slacks and a plain white shirt. The deer’d lost an aspect of mystery that had hung around him. It was more plain now than ever that the creature was younger than he let on.

Though at first I assumed his rescue efforts were entirely without success, I was surprised to see a squirrel clutching to his back. All bets were off as I was concerned when it came to guessing ages here, but I had the feeling it was another child. A two foot tall squirrel. There was a time when such a sight would have surprised me. Now, I just took it in stride.

“Well?” He asked with typical impatience. Let’s get a move on.” Daale nodded. Our sense of duty satisfied, it was certainly time to go. The only thing staying could accomplish was the level of danger increasing still further.

And so six became seven, and our “army” gained yet another child. We turned our faces from the valley, ready to flee. Though we’d filled many, I was certain that even more still remained, fully enough to slaughter us all if they came upon us.

As we climbed, the smoke followed us. Fumes rose in black waves, all of us covering our noses (or snouts, where applicable) with strips of cloth. The incline continued, drawing us up and out.

And so it was that I did not see the foe at hand until it was too late. A single frog stuck to the stone to our right, climbing silently along. Slipping out of the smoke, his knife had darted out and struck me in the chest before anyone even knew he was there. That long, red tongue slid back, and suddenly my blood had been set free. All of it seemed to be rushing to escape.

But if all my blood is running around loose, where does that leave me?

It seemed an insane thought, perhaps the last idea my brain could form. I had no memory of falling to the ground, but that was where I found myself. I could hear sounds of a scuffle, possibly. I also might have heard someone or something being dispatched, but it’s entirely possible I imagined the whole thing, out of the hope that my killer would be brought to Lady Justice something swift like.

Furred hands that felt icy against my skin propped me up and bandaged my wounds, but what good was locking the cage when the lions were already roaming free? All my blood was on the outside, soaking into the earth. Would it well up and overwhelm me?

Could I drown in my own blood? I had to consider the possibility.

Daale and Gryndor seemed to fall to arguing sometime after I was tended to. I heard snippets only, snippets of voices raised in anger.

“…can’t take him to your homeland! How could I go there?” I heard the bear prince exclaim. “I’m certain that…”

“…not quite the issue here.” Gryndor answered. “Herons? The healers live in lawless country. He wouldn’t survive that kind of trek.”

“…what then? He can’t have much time… if he dies, our hope could…” Daale’s voice sounded desperate, possibly even panicked. I wanted to ask him what was the matter, but I couldn’t speak. My voice was hiding from me.

I tried to rise, but my limbs wouldn’t obey me any more than my wayward voice. I felt cold. Ten thousand winters settling into my bones, as if to fill the void my vacating fluids were opening up.

Meanwhile, those angry tones rattled on, so full of life and warmth. “…to the rams.” Gryndor was insisting. “Yes, it is far I agree, but if we can revive him, just for… could buy enough time.

I didn’t hear Daale’s response well enough to comprehend it. His words sounded dark, low, and infuriated.

“It’ll be a special sort of spell. Only my master…” Gryndor sounded earnest now as he explained. “…necessary to reverse it. The damned herons won’t be able to help by then!”

“…suppose it’s settled then. Do what you must.” Daale’s voice was brittle enough to snap. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one touched by the cold.

I felt myself being propped up again. Heard paper rustling.

“Riley…” the words seemed to echo, stretched out by a tunnel or a canyon. Surely the speaker was far, far away, not someone close enough to touch. I was delirious, unsure of anything. But someone was definitely touching me. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine they were talking to me too. But whoever they were, their clutch was nowhere near as firm as that of the pale hand of death that gripped me so tightly.

“Riley. Listen to me.” I was being summoned. They would say my name three times, and I would appear. That meant I had to wait for the third, otherwise the people summoning me would get confused about how it worked. “I know it hurts, but we need you to be strong, just for a few more seconds. Come on Riley, stay with us.”

That was it.

Third time.

I had to answer now. I fought hard against the cold, but it was too strong. I couldn’t move anymore. I managed to jerk my arms and legs, but little else. “Ok, you have to sign this contract. It’s the only way you’ll be able to survive.” I felt an ink quill being pressed against my fingers. Paper rustled again. Somewhere near my limp arm was that paper I’d heard rustling.

My eyes were desperate to roll back into my head and stay there, but I forced myself up for one, two, three seconds and scribbled out something that could have said Jolly King of England for all I knew but was meant to say “Riley M. Rennington.” The contract was signed. Whatever that meant.

And then my eyes retreated to their hiding place

No comments: